The Phantom's Return
by BeccaTheNerdGirl
Summary: When a mysterious ring takes Philipa Laurens and Orla Foster back to 19th century France, the friends must learn to live in the Opera Populaire. As they prepare for the grand reopening of the opera house, will Erik make his comeback or will he stay hidden in the shadows? An original Phantom story


**Hello! So delighted to bring this new Phantom story to you! Please enjoy.**

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"Pippa! I can't believe we're finally here!"

Orla Foster was practically jumping for joy as Philippa Laurens navigated her jeep into a parking space. "Here" was the annual Portland Antique Festival, where collectors gathered to wheel and deal their prized pieces.

"Orla, I need you to chill til we've stopped." Said Pippa in a slightly frustrated tone. She was peering out her windows to park uniformly in the grassy field. "There." She said firmly after a moment. "Celebrate all you like." Pippa looked in the mirror to fix her chestnut curls that were coming out of her ponytail.

"Thank you for bringing me!" Said Orla, for what felt like the millionth time.

Pippa smiled, stepping out of the car. "Again, no need to thank me. Just enjoy."

The pair linked arms and strode to the entrance, the sweet tall grass brushing their legs. The space was beautifully open. Booths shaded by paisley colored tents and rustic archways stood across from each other to create a wide aisle for customers to wander through.

"What are we scouting for today?" Orla asked, shading her eyes with a wide floppy hat. Her long, red curls flowed prettily down her back.

"Whatever catches your eye." Answered Pippa. The two were working on opening up antique shoe in their small New England neighborhood. Orla was an Irish exchange student at the local community college where they both studied art and business. They quickly became best friends as they studied together and bonded over their love for all things vintage.

"Ohh!" Orla pressed her hat to her head with one hand as she dashed off to a table a few paces away. Pippa jogged to catch up with her.

"What do you think?" The Irish women lifted a pair of dainty lace gloves off the table.

"They're gorgeous." Pippa smiled. "It would look great with the evening gown I have at the shop."

"I thought so too." Replied Orla cheerfully. A glint can over the emerald eyes of her friend. Pippa knew what that meant. Orla was ready to do business. As much as she loved to shop, she was frugal with her purchases. Pippa grinned, patting her friend's shoulder. She moseyed past a few more vendors as she heard Orla say "Now sir, could we drop the price to $45…."

Pippa smirked to herself as she scanned over table overflowing with vintage books, china dolls, antique jewelry, vintage clothing and accessories. She let her fingers skim over bolts of old time fabric. She chatted politely to the vendors nestled in their chairs, ready with their rehearsed speeches to sell you anything and everything. Pippa decided on a few stained glass windows that would bring color to the store. Rustic lanterns also caught her eye; they would make for a lovely light fixture to hang from the ceiling. A handful of oddball pins and buttons could decorate the price tags. By the time Pippa made it back around to Orla, her friend had armfuls of vintage frocks, skirts and blouses.

"Your knack for bargaining is a gift." Laughed Pippa.

"Lass, I learn from the best." Said Orla. She looked around, "Anything else that you fancy before we leave?"

Pippa pursed her lips together, letting her blue eyes roam over the tables, checking for anything else that might flip her trigger. Nothing. Nothing else before her made her heart skip a beat. Just before she turned to go, a flash sparked in the the afternoon sun. What was that? Several yards away there something sparkling in an almost impossible way. As if in a trance, Pippa moved to meet the source of the shimmer. She could hear Orla following after her, ranting in her feisty accent. But Pippa kept walking, finally reaching the last table that was set up. On the table sat a stunning mahogany jewelry box. Delicate, swirled roses were carved in the top. Victorian etching down the side gave the piece even more beauty. But where had the sparkle come from? Pippa looked to the vendor, an elderly woman whose silver hair was tied back with a long purple scarf. She was thin and small, with a kindly face, rosy cheeks and violet eyes that glimmered.

"Pardon me, Ma'am." Began Pippa. "May I see the jewelry box?"

"Certainly, child." The woman spoke with a heavy French accent. She passed the box into Pippa's waiting hands.

As Pippa lifted the lid, the tinkle of sweet piano music spilled out. It was a gorgeous, unrecognizable melody. On the inside, a delicately crafted wooden couple circled round and round. The lady wore a ball gown and the man wore a suit and top hat. The box was lined with rose red crushed velvet. It held many strands of pearls and a ruby ring or two. Nothing that created such a shine. She nudged the strands around and, eureka, there it was! Nestled at the bottom of the jewelry was a ring. It's base was a winding circle of glittering diamonds. The band was a simple, shining silver. It was the most breathtaking piece of jewelry she'd ever seen.

"Where did you get something so beautiful?" Pippa breathlessly asked the woman.

"It was my great grandmother's." Replied the lady thickly. "She said there were so many memories within the box, she wanted to be rid of it."

Orla clucked her tongue. "Doesn't sound like good memories to me."

Pippa ignored her friend. "What can I offer you for it?"

The sweet woman smiled broadly. "It it yours without charge. I can tell how taken you are with it."

"Oh no please." Pippa dug through her purse and produced a few hundred dollar bills. "Please allow me to pay."

"It was yours the moment you touched it." Pressed the lady gently. "I insist. Go now and treasure what my Grandmother Margaret has to offer you."

After several sincere "Thank you's", Pippa and Orla headed for the car, goodies in tow.

* * *

That evening, Pippa was sitting up in bed with the music box nestled on the comforter. She had spent the last hour inspecting it to determine it's age. By now she surmised the box dated back to the late 1800's. While the box was beautiful, there was something that struck her about the ring. She didn't know why, but she was so enamored with it. She lifted it from the box with gentle fingers. What was the story behind it?

For the heck of it, Pippa pulled a delicate chain from her bedside drawer, strung the ring onto it, and clasped the chain around her neck. As she closed the lid, her finger brushed the latch and she heard a soft _click_. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she watched a hidden panel reveal itself. She nudged the open, the pads of her fingers touching paper as she did so. She let out a little squeak of delight and pulled the sheet out completely. The yellowed stationary was folded many times over and was surprisingly sturdy considering it's age. Pippa unfolded the note with shaking hands. It read in flowing, faded penmanship:

 _To Meg on her 17th birthday._

 _Love,_

 _Mother_

 _April 1884_

"Woah."Pippa stared at the note for a moment, then returned it to it's place and set the box on her nightstand. She turned of the light and snuggled down, her head swimming with more questions than answers.

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 **I hope you enjoyed this first installment! I will be working on Ch 2 today. Please review and let me know what you think! God bless!**


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